A Ripping Affair
by Aklis
Summary: <html><head></head>There never was a murderer in Victorian London called Jack the Ripper. There is, however, one in our time. The questions are; will his killings serve as a sufficient distraction for Sherlock Holmes? Maybe.  Set after Season 1. I do not own Sherlock Holmes</html>
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I am adept at many things, but finishing projects is sadly not one of them. This is a test to see if I enjoy writing this. As stated, in this version of the Sherlock BBC-continuency, Jack the Ripper has never existed. There will be deviations from the murders of real life, mainly in situations where conflicts in history will not allow it, or where I find it more of personal interest to switch things up._

_Without further ado – the game is afoot!_

Prologue

_8:13 AM, Thursday, September 1, 2011_

The morning was silent. London was cold for the time of year.

"...Bored." Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective extraordinaire stared into the ceiling of the flat he shared with me, Dr. John Watson, with whom he was having a very one-sided conversation while the latter was trying to read the paper on his laptop.

Holmes inhaled sharply, before launching off into a monologue:

"My mind _rebels_ at stagnation! Give me problems, _**give me work!**_ Give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can then dispense with artificial stimulants," he touched the nicotine patch on his left arm. "But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I _crave_ mental exaltation!"

I didn't react. I had learned to shut off the part of my brain that acknowledged my flatmate during his lengthy and not so infrequent speeches. Sherlock went on, however.

"That is why I have chosen my own profession, or rather, created it." He took a breath, before continuing with a note of pride. "I_ am _the only one in the world."

"The only unofficial detective," I pointed out, a slight irritation present in my voice, but Sherlock was quick to correct me: "The only unofficial _consulting_ detective. I take no credit for my cases. The work itself, the pleasure of finding a field for my _particular _powers is the highest reward."

I just snorted and took another bite of my sandwich. I had to get to work, and didn't have all that much time, so I quickly scrolled through the front page of the website.

_**SHOCKING MURDER IN WHITECHAPEL**_

I froze for a moment before opening the page and calling for Holmes who had disappeared into the kitchen for a bite.

I began to read out loud:

"Woman murdered on Buck's Row, Whitechapel. The woman, Mary Ann Nichols, 43, was found early on the thursday morning by a taxi driver who had driven past her corpse. According to himself, the driver had believed her to be unconscious and had tried to communicate with her, but, getting no response he had left his car to check up on her."

I kept on reading the article, seeing Sherlock approaching me from the kitchen. As I got to the part describing the wounds she had sustained in detail, I saw his lips curve into a slight smile.

"Ah! I will follow this with great interest, Watson. I wonder how long it shall be before we are summoned."

"You, Sherlock. _I _have a job. _Someone _needs to pay the rent while you're just lying here."

"I'm not _just lying_, John. I am brooding." Sherlock sniffed.

"Whatever. I'm leaving. I'll be back at four. Don't do anything stupid."

I could hear the offended huff coming from Holmes as I left the flat, grabbing my windbreaker and closing the door behind me.__

* * *

><p><em>8:26 AM, 19/2011_

Was seated in front of John's laptop seconds after he left the room. Read through article myself. Interesting. No job mentioned, quite possibly a prostitute. Will investigate further.

Drank orange juice. Texted Watson about needing more.

_Need more orange juice.  
>SH<em>

No reply.

Inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled again. Exhaled again. Rose. Changed clothes. Left John's laptop on; revenge for not replying about the orange juice.

Left flat and got into taxi bound for the station.

_Want all available info on Whitechapel murder  
>SH<em>

_Not my case, Sherlock  
>Lestrade<em>

_Not my problem  
>SH<em>

Left taxi, entered station. Commented on Donovan's poor choice of clothes as I passed her in the hallway. Pointed out the zipper she had forgot to pull up. Mockingly asked with whom she had a tryst this time. Noted faint blush she tried to hide behind the name-calling.

Entered Lestrade's office. Group of people turned their heads toward me.

"Sherlock, I'm busy!"

"Good. Just get me my information."

"Not my case. If you really want to help, I'll send a message to Chief Inspector Abberline after this meeting. Now, if you would kindly leave."

I left and texted John.

_Don't forget my orange juice.  
>SH<em>

_Get your own orange juice, Sherlock.  
>John<em>

_Busy.  
>SH<em>

_Doing what?  
>John<em>

_None of your business.  
>SH<em>

No reply. Again. Made a mental note to bother John about it later.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Late update, been busy. All the locations are 100% real and have been found through excessive use of Google maps. All locations can be found, with the exception of Buck's Row which, in real life, is called Durward Street as they changed the name shortly after the murder. As the murder never took place in this timeline/universe, there never was any reason to change the name and I have kept the name Buck's Row._

_I very much recommend looking up the Durward Street, Whitechapel, if you are interested, because it will give you an entirely different perspective. _

**Chapter One**

Returned to the flat. Informed Mrs. Hudson about the orange juice as I passed her in the stairwell. She reminded me that she wasn't my housekeeper. Asked her to bring me a cup of coffee. Texted John.

_Orange juice, John._

_SH_

No reply.Checked his laptop as I passed it. 23% battery left.Applied nicotine patch on arm. Received text from Lestrade.

_Have arranged meeting with Abberline._

_Lestrade_

_Location?_

_SH_

_He'll send a car to pick you up._

_Lestrade_

_Time?_

_SH_

_He should be around shortly._

_Lestrade_

Waited for car to turn up. Texted Lestrade again.

_No car. Bored._

_SH_

_Only been two minutes. I'm busy._

_Lestrade_

Car showed up eventually. Left for the Whitechapel station. Did my best to ignore annoying driver. Failed miserably and was soon familiar with not only the life of PC Andy Jackson, but also neighbours and friends. Stopped in front of the police station on Brick Lane. Did not wait for my driver.

Was greeted by Inspector Abberline. 5'9". Fit. Close to Lestrade's age. Black hair. Gray at temples, balding. Married; gold ring. Recently polished. Happy marriage. No children.

He introduced himself. I told him I wanted the facts first. Was led into his office.

"Coffee?"

"Black, two sugars."

He called for his assistant, informed her about my drink of choice, told her to bring two.

Asked him to provide me with the necessary information. Put mobile phone on record, a habit I had gained to save me from retelling everything to John if he wasn't present.

_16:14, 1/9/2011_

Me and Sherlock were sitting in the main room of our flat after my incredibly uneventful day. After getting home to an excited Sherlock and having forced him to get his own bloody orange juice, we were both sitting in the living room of our flat where we were listening to the recording of Sherlock's conversation with Inspector Abberline.

_**"Tell me about the murder."**_

_**"Buck's Row. It's just off Whitechapel roa—"**_

Sherlock interrupted him, telling him that he already knew the location; **"**_**Close to a sports centre and the Whitechapel tube station. I'm here for the murder, not tourism."**_

_**"Look, Mr. Holmes. The only reason you're here is because you're a friend of Lestrade's, but if you want in on this, don't be a prick."**_

_**"Crime scene,"** _Sherlock said, pausing before he added a condescending_ **"please"**._

_**"Mary Ann Nichols... 43 years old. Married once, divorced close to ten years ago. Heavy drinker. Alleged prostitute." **_

I heard how Sherlock interrupted Abberline with a satisfied _'ah'._

_**"Was seen 12:30, leaving a pub called Apples and Pears, just down this street, thirty minutes after closing time and then last seen at the corner of Osborn Street and Whitechapel Road an hour before her time of death, at approximately 3.30AM." **_

_**"Disappeared from the corner. Corpse found nearly half a mile east on the same street as Whitechapel station."**_Sherlock informed me that he had began looking through Whitechapel on Google maps on his mobile.

_**"Unlikely she was going to catch a train, would have gone to Aldgate East station, much closer. Whitechapel Sports Centre? No, closed."**_ The recording of Sherlock went through several theories out loud before stopping himself.

_**"No. She must have been picked up at the corner by a potential customer and been driven here..."**_ At this point he told me that he had showed Abberline where he believed was a safe place for the intercourse he believed had occurred; in the narrower part of Court Street.

_**"They must have spent some time doing whatever they did. He will have driven south to get back onto Whitechapel Road and she headed up north to Buck's Row, maybe to take the tube back to Aldgate East."**_

_**"Which is where she must've run into her murderer." **_

_**"Precisely. I will want to see the body for myself later, but for now I will be happy with the coroner's results."**_

Sherlock paused the recording and handed me a sheet of paper:

"It's the coroner's report."

**Coroner's Report: Mary Ann Nichols**

_Dr. Henry Llewellyn_

_**Time of death: Approx. 3:30-3:40**_

_**Throat slit twice from left to right**_

_**Abdomen mutilated with one deep jagged wound**_

_**Several incisions across the abdomen**_

_**Three or four similar cuts on the right side caused by the same knife **_

_**(At least 6–8" long used violently and downwards)**_

_**Very little blood, barely half a pint**_

_**Killed by slash to throat, abdominal mutilations done after death**_

_**(Would have taken murderer less than five minutes to perform)**_

"Oh god." I buried my head in my hands. "What kind of monster slashes someone up _after _they're dead?"

"An exciting one!" Sherlock's excitement had not diminished.

I continued to read, slightly disgusted at the apparent fun Sherlock was having.

_**Five missing teeth**_

_**Slight laceration of tongue**_

_**Small bruise on lower part of right jaw, possibly from thumb pressure**_

_**Circular bruise on left side of the face**_

_**(Also inflicted by the pressure of the fingers?)**_

_**All injuries done from left to right**_

_**(Possibly made by a left-handed individual)**_

_**All injuries caused by the same instrument**_

_**(Long-bladed, very sharp, used with great violence)**_

"I have arranged a visit to the crime scene tonight, but for now we need to examine the body."

With that, Sherlock jumped to his feet and was almost through the door by the time I had gotten up from my armchair.


End file.
